


die Tragödie der Höhle

by Altered_Karma



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, DO NOT COPY, Gen, Ill-Advised Medical Cauterisation, Pretend there was a little bit more time before Molly died, ambiguous ending, and that they had some time to run various missions for the Gentleman, dead dove do not eat, do not repost to another site, graphic depictions of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29952720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altered_Karma/pseuds/Altered_Karma
Summary: They had been foolish.They’d gambled with their enemies and lost.And now Caleb and Mollymauk were paying the price.
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf & Caleb Widogast
Kudos: 5
Collections: Winter's Crest Exchange 2021





	die Tragödie der Höhle

They had been foolish. 

They’d gambled with their enemies and lost.

It had been a simple mission, on the surface. Find a group of treasure hunters and ‘liberate’ their recently acquired artifacts from them. 

Only, the treasure hunters had been bigger in number than the Gentleman had informed them of, and the Nein had been in over their heads and too far in to get out peacefully. 

They’d split up and run in the hopes of not being overwhelmed by the enemy forces, but now Caleb thinks that it wouldn’t have mattered. 

He and Mollymauk had split off and drawn around ten of their pursuers after them into the dense forest nearby. They weren’t nearly as skilled as either Molly or Caleb, but there were too many of them to fight off easily; Caleb had taken to sending flame after flame at the closest of them, in order to stave them off. 

Molly had seen a cave, so a quick Cat’s Paw had sealed them into the entrance.

But they hadn’t anticipated the blow sticks. 

They have a split second – not nearly enough – to dive away from the entrance as the sound of fire reaches them before the whole thing goes up in fire. Caleb glances away, then chides himself for potentially opening himself up to his enemies. 

It doesn’t matter though, because when things are finally calm, and Caleb’s sent up a couple of dancing orbs, which hover basically touching his head, they see that the entrance has been well and truly sealed shut. 

They had been foolish. 

They’d gambled with their enemies and lost.

And now they were paying the price.

“Well, that’s that settled, I suppose.” Mollymauk’s disembodied, wheezing voice rasps to him through the darkness. 

“You think so?” But even as he says it, he knows his companion to be correct. His cat’s paw is currently buried in one of his pockets, in reach but potentially useless if the earth has settled. No, in fact it would be too risky to try and move things now; he could bring the whole cave down on top of them if he does it wrong, and that’s not a risk he’s willing to take. 

A horrid and wet-sounding cough answers him. “Shifting too much of it could bring the rest of it down on top of us. I may be a betting man, but this isn’t a- cough, a gamble I’m willing to take.” Another painful cough interrupts him.

Caleb feels his brow furrow and wishes he could see the other. Their newly formed cave is low, though, so low that they both have to hunch while sitting. Caleb doesn’t feel focused enough to cast his dancing lights just yet. “You are alright, yes? That does not sound like it would be very comfortable.” 

“Just- peachy, darling.” But Caleb can hear how his breath rasps fast. “Or, well, fine as I can be when it feels like I’ve been buried alive.”

Oh, yes, that would likely be uncomfortable for a man reborn like Mollymauk. Thankfully, Caleb has enough experience with panic attacks to know how to help, even if he’s never actually been on the other end of one. “Would you like for me to speak to you? I have only recently read books on magic theory, there has been no new smut, but…”

“Please.”

So Caleb speaks, at length, about the speculated transmutive properties of raw obsidian, a material that some think can substitute for basalt, though no one has been able to explore what the effects of that might be long enough to find any results to write it all down. He adds in his own ideas, where at higher levels perhaps even time and space might be made malleable. Mollymauk hums occasionally, still ragged but less panicked, and Caleb feels a tiny bit of relief in the pit of his stomach, that he had been able to bring his friend some calm. He would cast his lights again, but he’s pretty sure they’re both in a state, and seeing might only make them panic more. He would like to be able to make sure that Molly is doing better, but with no guarantee of help or rescue, he’d rather not be able to assume the worst. 

He wipes a sweaty palm on his leg and pauses for breath and to wet his lips. 

Mollymauk interrupts him before he can continue. His breath is still wet and ill-sounding, but there’s a calmness now that Caleb’s relieved to hear. “I appreciate the effort, darling, I really do. But do you maybe… have anything lighter to talk about?” 

He thinks back. “Mmmm, I have some fairytales that I might be able to share.” 

There are only so many Zemnian stories that Caleb knows, and few of them are wholly light. He does eventually settle on the tale of the Four Skillful Brothers, whose talents and exploits earned them the four corners of a kingdom. He doesn’t particularly like this one, because it was mostly a fanciful story with no lessons or consequences, but it certainly seemed like something Mollymauk would like. 

He does his best to keep talking throughout, as it is a rather short tale, but the air grows thinner and thinner, and the bulk of Caleb’s stuff is still with their cart, including his water skin. He eventually has to pause for breath, just before the brothers are rewarded for their heroics. 

Mollymauk hasn’t made any noise in the last little while. In fact, Caleb can only hear his shallow breathing. “Mollymauk?”

The tiefling groans. 

Caleb does his best to shuffle nearer. The roof is low, and his legs have gone numb from sitting in the cramped space after so long, but he eventually makes it to Mollymauk’s side. The tiefling, who usually runs even hotter than normal humans, feels alarming cold to the touch. His pulse, when Caleb gets a hand on his neck, is thready and weak. 

“Oh, this is not good, friend. You do not seem to be well.” Caleb musters his concentration and drags the faintest scorching ray to his hand, holding it over the open neck of Mollymauk’s shirt. “You appear to be losing blood, too, but I do not know where the wound is.” 

“…m’ l’g…”

Steeling himself, Caleb sends a dancing light into the air. 

Mollymauk’s leg is a mess, what little of it he can see. Apparently, he _hadn’t_ escaped the blast radius; from just below his knee, he’s trapped in the rubble. The fabric around it is warped and crumpled with the weight of the rocks, and he can see the way that the purple flesh below stretches and tears and turns red. The more concerning part is the small pool of blood that’s reflecting from below the sodden leg of his ridiculous boots. 

Something like true panic starts to settle in Caleb’s chest. 

There’s enough blood on the ground that Caleb knows he needs to act, and soon. But he doesn’t know what to do, beyond…

“Mollymauk. I, we have to stop the bleeding.”

“Don’ you… dare wrap th’t dir’y…”

“No. I am going to cauterize it.” He holds up a hand, and slowly fuels more power into the scorching ray he’s been holding. “I don’t—there aren’t any other options...” A dirty tourniquet wouldn't solve the problem, not with this much of the tiefling's lifeblood painting the floor. 

“Then ge’ on wif it… Mr. Caleb…”

It really is going to haunt him for the rest of his days, the stench of burning flesh set alight by his own two hands. Since he isn’t exactly sure where the specific bleeding injury is, he has to scorch the whole area to a degree that all possible wounds seal. He sticks a hand under Mollymauk’s head to keep him from smacking it against the rocks, and sets to heating the rocks until he’s sure the wounds will bleed no longer. 

By the time they’re glowing faintly, Mollymauk’s muffled groans have turned into full on screams, but still Caleb presses on. At the very least, Trent’s training was good for helping him ignore this. 

At one point, his vision gets blurry and he has to put his off-hand down, but instead of rocky ground it lands on Mollymauk’s jacket. Instead of softness, however, he encounters the hard shape of a glass phial.

It’s then that he remembers: Mollymauk had one of the health potions with him. 

The rocks will maintain their heat for a while, so Caleb scrambles to draw the thing out of his pocket. Mollymauk, nearly delirious with pain, shoves his hand away.

“Mollymauk, I’m trying to help!”

“Ngh…”

He withdraws the vial, quickly uncorks it, then places it at Mollymauk’s lips. The meagre health potion is likely to go straight towards the fire damage Caleb had been dealing him, but that would also mean that the original abrasions would be healed. He hoped anyways. He casts a small spell that cools the stones back down to something a tiefling can tolerate, though they do go a long way towards heating the cool cave. 

The potion goes down, and Mollymauk’s eyes begin fluttering. The tiefling glances around in the low light for a moment before his eyes settle on Caleb. “Caleb…?”

“Mollymauk, I am so sorry—about the fire—” His breath is starting a little short, but this time he doesn’t think it’s the fault of the enclosed space or the depleting breathable air.

“Caleb, Caleb darling, I’m fine. You helped me, you kept me alive.” But Caleb’s starting to lose the sound of Mollymauk’s voice, like he’s going underwater. It’s coming thinner and tinnier, and soon Caleb can’t hear anything at all.

The world around him changes. 

He’s back in front of a house on fire, the smell of charred flesh – his flesh, his parents, the bodies he’d made of them both – or, no. That’s not right. He’s in a cave? There’s a beast that’s trying to hurt his companions, and he sets it alight but it’s wrong, and for a minute it’s _them_ that burns—

A sharp, stinging pain to his cheek snaps him out of it.

Mollymauk is looking at him with real concern now, propped up on an elbow and grimacing in pain. “Welcome back, Mr. Caleb. I need you with me.”

“I—Right. Thank you, Mollymauk.” 

They sit in silence for a moment. What else can they do? 

His companion sighs and looks at the fallen stone wall. “I haven’t heard from the others at all. Can you try and send a message?”

He entertains the thought, and plunges his hand into the correct pocket for the little bit of copper wire. He casts the spell, a plea for one of the Nein to answer, aimed at Jester. 

Waits a minute.

Nothing. 

Caleb shakes his head, and stows the wire once more. “There’s a limited range on that, so even if it is an easy spell to cast, unless one of the Nein is in range, it is useless.” He wishes, not for the first time, that sending was one of the spells in his repertoire. But such a thing is beyond him, especially for the moment. 

Mollymauk sighs, but pats Caleb’s leg comfortingly. “Well, then, Mr. Caleb, we’re going to have to find our own way out of here. I don’t think we can afford to wait to be rescued.”

“But your leg…” 

“Will be fine. I’d much rather lose it than my life. Besides, it’s only a leg.” In spite of his words, Caleb could hear the tremor in his voice that bespoke of his hesitance. The enormity of losing a leg… Caleb can’t imagine it. “However, I’m fresh out of ideas as to how to get out of here. So, anything in that library you’ve got up in your brain?” 

They don’t have much time; even now, Caleb can feel the air growing thinner. He doesn’t have any spells that will transmute it, either, so the first thing they need to do is— “Make a hole.”

“Pardon?” 

“We need to make a hole, for some air.”

Molly hums, then looks at his hip. One of his swords must’ve been caught in the blast, but the other is secure at his hip. He tugs it out of the loop. “Think you’ll be able to get some leverage out of this?”

Caleb hums, and grasps it with consideration. “Perhaps. The top of the rocks should not be so difficult to move, so I will… do something about that.”

It’s a struggle to climb his way to the top. He didn’t entirely escape the shrapnel of the explosion either, and he’s far from suited to climbing rocks, but eventually he makes it the top of the pile with a stable enough foothold to begin wedging the sword into the little gaps between the stones. 

It’s the work of long minutes, and carefully aiming the falling stones away from where Mollymauk lies pinned, but eventually the sounds of outside filter through the stone. He does not have night vision, however, and can only see that the debris is several feet deep from the way the dancing lights reflect back at him. “I do not think there is any chance of us escaping through here, my friend, even if we were to find some way of freeing you. But at least there is air now.” Already he can feel the coolness of the night cave bleeding into the dampness of their little pocket. 

Mollymauk’s tongue clicks audibly. “Damn, that’s a shame. Think you can get back down safely?”

He’s not confident, but he’ll have to try. His limbs tremble horribly with the exertion, and it takes all of his meager, worthless strength to remain attached to the wall. Even then, his sweaty, weak fingers let go, and he falls the last foot to the ground, jolting his leg into such a bout of pain that the numbness from landing on his ass goes entirely ignored. Which of course, loses him his air. There's a sharp stinging in his chest that refuses to fade. 

“That was a rough landing there, Mr. Caleb. You alright?”

Caleb, who is still catching his breath, gasps an affirmative. 

Mollymauk shuffles a bit to the side, as much as he’s able, and begins petting Caleb gently across the forehead. “Relax, darling. Take as much time as you need.”

They have air now, but there are a myriad of other issues they should be worrying about. Caleb _needs_ to get up, but his head feels dizzy.

 _Very_ dizzy.

Above him, the lights go out.

“...Caleb?” 

“Sorry, freund.” The words barely make it out of him, and afterwards he’s left wheezing for air once again. The coughs wrack his chest for a long, indiscernible moment, and by the time they finally calm his breathing feels labored and coated in sand. That sharp, stabbing feeling in his chest doesn't dissipate, and in fact his attempts at collecting his breath only make things worse. “Must’ve inhaled more dust— than I realized.”

Even as he says it, he feels the words ring false. Mollymauk must hear it too, because his hand grasps over in the dark and seizes Caleb by the coat, shaking him a little. “Don’t you dare— what’s wrong, Caleb?” 

All of a sudden the numbness in his leg retreats, chased by a lightning bolt of pain arcing up the length of his body. He feels his body seize and lock up from the suddenness of the pain. “It appears that I also have not— not escaped the blast unscathed.”

Molly gives a sharp inhale, and releases his coat lapels gently. “Fuck, are you injured somewhere? Why didn't you say something sooner?”

Caleb follows him down to the ground, letting gravity guide him. He must land somewhere on Mollymauk, because the ground is warmer and softer than he anticipated. “I hadn’t noticed…”

In the dark he can hear the tiefling’s frantic shuffling and feel the increasingly panicked breaths as his chest rises and falls. “Caleb, Caleb dear, I need you to stay awake.” 

But the breath in his chest comes heavier now, and in the dark he can feel the stillness stealing over him. “You will be okay, Molly…”

"Don't you dare, Caleb, you can't leave me alone, here! Shit, why'd you have to use our one potion on me...! Caleb? Caleb, please—!"

And though he can see nothing in the dark, his eyes close anyway, with Molly’s plaintive cries follow him into the depths.

**Author's Note:**

> For Shimo who simply requested 'angst!' I hope this meets your expectations, even if it wasn't as canon-based as you might have hoped. I know it definitely scratches a certain itch for me. 
> 
> I got to the end of this and realized, 'what if instead of losing Molly to the slavers, they lost Caleb?' Perhaps another time... There's a lot of potential.
> 
> Poor Molly, left behind in a cave with a dead body, buried alive and potentially never to be found...


End file.
